


Blue One Is A Little Chiller

by womenstan



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Bipolar Disorder, F/M, I'll add tags as we go, Internalized Homophobia, Isak is in university, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Religious Conflict, They're both a little more hurt, and a little more sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:48:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29792841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/womenstan/pseuds/womenstan
Summary: Even has been dying for years, slowly and painfully. He wonders what's going to kill him first : his guilt or his brain?After a particularly awful party, he meets a beautiful stranger who makes him feel alive and who's everything he's ever dreamt of. Only problem: that stranger has demons of his own.OR, where they're both a little more fucked-up, but they still find each other.
Relationships: Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen, Yousef Acar/Sana Bakkoush
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	Blue One Is A Little Chiller

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this baby, it's the realest thing I've ever written and hopefully you can resonate with it too. I appreciate all and any comments, may it be suggestions, qualms or simply you screaming at me <3
> 
> I'm not a fan of graphic depictions, but there is a slight tw for self-harm. It begins at ''He locked his door as a precaution'' and ends once the next scene starts. It's not described in details, but do be careful and mindful of yourselves!
> 
> Many thanks to the Alt er writer's block server as always!

Song: Get Better – Nothing But Thieves

Most days, Even felt like his life was slipping through his fingers. 

It’s like no matter how hard he tried, he never managed to catch up to everyone else. He was always going too fast, or too slow, but never quite _living in the present._

Lately, though, everything was going too quickly for him. Time seemed to mock him, cutting his days in half. Suddenly, weeks would go by quicker than days used to, leaving Even in a constant state of disarray. 

In these moments, he would do what he did best: disappear. He’d lay down in his room one day and emerge from it only once the concept of time didn’t seem so foreign to him anymore. It was for the best anyway.

When he got lost in time, he would disappear in his own mind. He was physically present, but he didn’t see, he didn’t hear, he didn’t speak. He was miles and miles away in his head, floating from thoughts to thoughts mindlessly. 

He called it his “blackouts”. It wasn’t as intense as an episode, but it felt significant enough to deserve its own name. Most of the time, Even couldn’t remember anything from his blackouts. They were exactly what the name suggested: it was like he’d gone to sleep one day and woken up months later. 

Sometimes, Even figured it was for the best. If he couldn’t remember anything he’d done, then there was no way he could regret it. But that was only sometimes. The more rational part of his brain would spend hours obsessing about it and trying, in vain, to remember a single detail from his blackouts. His mind created scenario after scenario of horrible things he might have done and simply… would never know about. Of horrible things that might have been done _to him_. Maybe he was better off not knowing after all.

Most times, he’d just realize he’d gotten a tattoo at some point. Other times, he’d woken up in unknown territory, lost, alone and scared, so scared. That was a feeling that never left Even. It was carved in his bones, it flew through his veins, it kept him prisoner inside of himself. Constantly feeling like he was suffocating without ever being allowed the relief of death.

It was agony. Pure and simple agony. Even had been dying for years, slowly and painfully, every day a little bit more. He was long past the point of fighting: at this point, the only thing that was keeping him from ending his suffering himself was fear. Fear, always fear. It made him a coward, he knew that, and yet… He couldn’t help it. Somewhere, deep in the abyss of his mind, something was still too scared to die. 

He’d wait until it suffocated too. He was a patient man, after all. That was an upside to having a warped concept of time: he never worried he’d run out of it. 

  
  


Today, it marked the seventh day since he’d woken back up. This time, he’d lost only one month. To him, one month meant absolutely nothing, but it seemed to please his friends. He also hadn’t woken up in the middle of a stranger’s house in an even stranger city. He’d apparently only stopped going to his classes and committed a few breaking and enterings. So, all things considered, he wasn’t doing all that bad.

But the truth is, he wasn’t really back. He still felt a veil of exhaustion draped over his thoughts, never really being able to focus on a thought or a task for longer than a few minutes at a time. His eyelids were heavy, heavier than his muscles could really support. Come to think of it, his whole body felt heavy. 

All he truly wanted was to go back to his room, hide under the covers and never come out again. He was perfectly fine with being left alone with his thoughts until he’d wither away. 

Sadly, there was one thing he valued more than anything: his friends. They were, rightfully so, constantly worried about him. They’d worry when he was down, they’d worry when he was up, they’d worry when he was fluctuating somewhere in the middle, they’d just always worry. Even understood why they worried so much about him: hell, sometimes even _he_ worried about himself. He just wished he had the courage to finally push them away, to free them from the burden he was, from his weight dragging them down with him.

But he was scared. As always. His fear of loneliness somehow overpowered his goodwill, so he figured the self-sacrifice could wait. In exchange though, he tried to never say no to them. So, unless he was going through one of his “phases”, he would try to pretend for them as much as he could. Pretend he was okay, pretend that he was happy, pretend, pretend, pretend. He would tell them what they wanted to hear, whenever they wanted to hear it. 

That was one thing Even was quite good at, reading people. Reading their needs and molding himself into the perfect object of their desire. He used to be quite the opposite, his own unique personality being flamboyant enough, but he learned the trick with time. When he started getting sick, he quickly realised no one would want to stay for who he really was. It was always just a matter of time until they’d run for their life. So, he’d swapped his personality for that of a chameleon, trading long term relationships for fleeting acquaintances. 

Well, except for the boys. He couldn’t get rid of them. They were his last anchor, his last comfort. Without them, he’d be well and truly lost to the world. He used to have his parents, but even they’d ended up leaving him after he’d maxed out all of their credit cards when he was last manic. They’d had to put a second mortgage on their house to afford to pay them back and they’d cut Even out of their life for good. There were no screams, no anger, just a simple ‘I think it’d be best if you figured yourself out on your own now’ and that was it. 

Two years later, Even still wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He went from periods of thinking it was the best thing to ever happen to him and that they could go fuck themselves for abandoning him to periods of hating himself for all he’d put them through and wondering why they hadn’t thrown him out long before. Most days, he tried not to think about it.

The only ones who’d never left him were the boys. When he went off the rail, they’d always be patiently waiting to collect the pieces and glue him back together. When he got better, they’d monitor him rigorously and take control of everything. All he had to do was nod, say ‘yes’ and follow along. Sometimes, it felt good to switch to autopilot. Other times, though, he really wished he could just be left alone for a second.

Like today. The boys had apparently found this really great party in Mikael’s dorm and Even just ‘had to come with’. He’d agreed noncommittally at first, promptly forgetting about it and going back to more pressing matters — like overthinking every single decision he’d made in the past. 

Apparently, days had passed and it was now the night of the famed party.

Even had tried to get out of it, refusing to get out of bed and then whining like a child when Yousef and Mutta had dragged him out of it. He even trailed his feet on the floor and, when that didn’t work, he got out his ultimate weapon: tears. He knew it wasn’t glorious, but he was way past the point of caring about his image like that. So, he cried. Crying was easy for Even; it was like a second nature. When your body is too heavy for you and your thoughts are constantly smoldering you, tears are never that far. 

The only problem was that he’d pulled off this trick many times before, successfully might he add. At some point, the boys were bound to catch up to it, or grow bored of it. Whichever it was, it seemed that their patience expired today, as they just resigned themselves to getting Even ready themselves.

They didn’t bother making him shower; he already had that morning anyway. Mikael went through his wardrobe meticulously, looking for an appropriate outfit, while Yousef tried to do something out of his hair. He just sat there, in the kitchen chair, crying silently as everyone buzzed around him. Adam put some unknown playlist one and the boys began getting ready themselves. Even moved to the floor slowly, letting himself fall a little and just laid there in a star shape, eyes closed and thoughts wandering. 

If he was going to have to go to this party, he was damn well not going to make it easy. 

A few moments later — five minutes, an hour, Even didn’t know — it was his turn again. He’d stopped crying at some point, his tears giving up on the battle as well. _Traitors_ , Even thought, as he was hoisted up by his friends. Mikael threw him a small pile of clothes, before pushing him towards his room.

Before he closed the door, Mikael sent him a warning glance.

“If you’re not changed in five minutes, I’m coming back in and doing it myself Næsheim. Don’t test me.”

_Five minutes_. Again with the time. Everyone but him seemed to have a fair understanding of the notion and it irked him. “Your five minutes mean nothing to me!”, he wanted to shout, but he knew better than that. They wouldn’t understand. They loved him, but they just didn’t get these things. Maybe no one ever would. 

In all fairness, Even didn’t wish this curse on anyone. But, at the same time, it would feel good to know he wasn’t alone for once. That, just this one time, someone _got him_ , that he wouldn’t have to explain himself again and again. It got lonely in his brain.

He shook his head, trying to chase his thoughts away. It didn’t work; it never did. He still grabbed the clothes and put them on hastily. Mikael had been considering in his choice. He’d picked a very plain blue jean that was neither tight nor loose. The sweater was the colour of rust and a bit larger than needed, but Even liked that. He felt safe, lost in the sea of fabric that engulfed him. He tried to push his hair away from his face, too tired to properly style it. 

Sighing, he opened the door and joined the others in the living room. They cheered him on and excitedly clapped him on the back as he came to sit with them on the worn-out sofa. 

“Next time”, he thought, “Next time, I’ll say no.”

\----------------------------------------

Song: Heavy Snow – Christian French

Even was bored. No, he was beyond that point by now. He was so bored that even the word ‘bored’ couldn’t express how bored he was.

When they’d first arrived at the party, the guys had promised to stick around him all night. They’d kept their promise… For a while. But then, Yousef’s crush, Sana, had walked through the doors and he used Elias as an excuse to go talk to her. That still left Even, Mutta, Mikael and Adam. Or, that was until a small group of, admittedly gorgeous, girls came to sweep them away. Mikael clearly hesitated, throwing Even a questioning glance. Even shook his head to let him know they could go without him, that it was fine (even though he felt anything _but_ fine). 

So, they left to go dance with the girls in the middle of what seemed to be a makeshift dancefloor, leaving Even alone on the sofa. Usually, he liked to dance, but when his head was clouded like this, he could barely stand to stay awake, let alone bounce around on his feet.

At first, Even stayed put, hoping that one of the guys would get bored soon enough and come back to him. No one did. He sighed, reaching for his back pocket, before he remembered he’d left his phone home. Elias had claimed it wouldn’t do him any good to spend the night glued to his phone and, at the time, it seemed logical, so Even had reluctantly agreed. He really fucking wished he hadn’t.

When he realized his friends were definitely not coming back, he got up angrily and walked through the house. He needed water. Now.

As he tried to reach the other side of the crowd where the kitchen stood, he started to grow uncomfortable. The mass of bodies pressing up to him as he made his way through didn’t make him feel energized like it usually did. This time, it made him feel suffocated, his breathing becoming labored as he tried to ignore the feeling. 

It was warm, too warm, and Even was sweating. He was sweating and he couldn’t breathe and he just wanted to go home. He hadn’t even wanted to come here in the first place, so this was all his stupid friends’ fault. 

His anger resurfaced, taking over his panic for a moment and he pushed more aggressively through the sea of people blocking his way.

When he managed to get through the kitchen’s doorway, he felt like crying. The kitchen was just as flooded, couples making out on his left, some guy throwing up in the sink on his right and about 20 other people in between. Feeling tears prick his eyes, Even tried to breathe slowly. His chest was rising faster and faster and he could hear his pulse ringing in his ears. 

Looking around, he found that his vision had gone blurry, just like his brain. He couldn’t distinguish anything, or anyone, and he felt like he was just going to fucking collapse right there. 

He closed his eyes and tried to take a step forward, but the crowd prevented him from really making any move. He didn’t have the strength to push through the bodies like he’d done earlier and he was just trying to keep himself upright.

He let out a first tear, not even bothering to wipe it away. His lungs burned badly and he didn’t know if he was crying from the panic or from the pain. He felt his legs give out a little, not enough for him to fall to the ground, but enough to make him lose his balance slightly. He was trying to regain his footing, when he felt a hand curl around his left arm and hold him in place. 

He turned his head in the direction of the hand, surprised, but he couldn’t really make out a face, his already blurred vision now filled with tears. 

His face must have seemed quite pathetic, because the stranger immediately shouted at people to move away, guiding Even to the right with the hand still on his arm. 

Even followed as best as he could, tripping over his own feet a little, but the stranger’s hold always managed to keep him upright. He was confused, but he was mostly scared. Scared he was going to just run out of air and die at this shitty party, alone. Or, well, technically not alone.

The stranger opened a door at the end of the corridor and slowly pushed Even inside. He closed the door behind him, locking it, before bringing both of them to sit on the bed.

Even closed his eyes again, feeling so lightheaded he thought he would pass out at any moment.

He felt the stranger’s hands come to hold his face on either side, softly, carefully. He was talking to him, but Even couldn’t understand what he was saying.

His voice was calm, deep and soothing. He rubbed circles on Even’s face, moving his hand to his hair, back to his face, and then to his hair again. Even tried to concentrate on the movements, on the sensations on his skin. 

He managed to open his eyes slightly, only to immediately find the stranger’s. Green, so green. It felt like an anchor, like an island in the middle of an endless sea. Even anchored his gaze to the stranger’s, unblinking. 

The strokes never stopped, always slow and precise. The stranger took Even’s hand and placed it on his own heart. He could feel his heart beating regularly, his chest rising and falling in a soothing pattern. Even understood the message and tried to match his own breathing to the stranger’s. 

Breathe in… Breathe out. Breathe in… Breathe out.

They stayed like this for a while. Little by little, Even felt his chest relax, his heartbeat slowing enough for Even to be able to hear again. He still felt shaken, weak and the tears hadn’t stopped strolling down his cheeks, but he no longer felt like he was on the brink of death. 

The stranger smiled softly, wiping Even’s tears with his thumbs. 

Even felt like he should be embarrassed, breaking down like this in front of a stranger, but the shame that would usually inhabit him was nowhere to be found. He felt… calm, strangely calm.

The stranger, who was still stroking his face, snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Better?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Even didn’t trust himself to speak, so he nodded. The stranger nodded too, like he was considering the answer.

“Do you want me to get you some water? You can wait here, I’ll lock the door.” He asked, slowly backing away from Even.

Once again, Even nodded. 

The stranger got up, but he seemed to hesitate for a moment.

“You look exhausted, you can just lay down in the meantime.” He said, quickly adding, “If you want. Only if you want.”

That proposition sounded like heaven to Even. He nodded again, trying a small smile, to which the stranger responded with an even bigger one. 

Once his momentary saviour was out of the door, Even practically let himself fall back on the bed, too drained to worry about anything. 

He felt his eyelids close against his best judgment, but he didn’t stop them. His thoughts were still cloudy, too far to be loud, so he just enjoyed the peace. It was a rare commodity for him. He felt his muscles relax into the mattress, like he was melting into it. 

He could nap, right? Just for a bit, until the stranger came back. Yeah, just for a bit…

\-------------------------------

Song: Sunkissed – Khai dreams

When Even came to again, the first thing he noticed was the light. Despite both of his eyelids being shut closed, he could feel the sunrays on his face, warming his skin. This was unusual, as he pretty much always kept his curtains closed. 

He felt tired, but in a satisfying way. He didn’t know how long he slept, but he felt relaxed and soft. The covers were so comfortable around his body and it was like his body was one with the mattress. Even was seriously considering never getting up.

He stirred on the bed, stretching each of his muscles, slowly, one by one. His eyes still closed, he hummed in satisfaction as his legs let out a low cracking noise. He stayed still for a bit, enjoying how rested he felt for once. 

It wasn’t like all of his nights were bad, but he was usually rather happy to be up and as far from his bed as he could. This morning though, he was in no hurry, enjoying the state of relative peace his mind seemed to be in. 

He tried to think about what could have changed his mood like this, but he came short. He did recall going to a party with his friends last night and having some sort of a panic attack, though, which was better than nothing. He tried to retrace his steps of the past night, hoping to unlock some more memories. It worked, and soon enough, the memory of a green-eyed stranger came back to him. The stranger, helping him to a room. The stranger, bringing him down from his panic attack. The stranger, going to fetch him a water while he-

Oh no. No, no, no, no. Even’s eyes snapped open as he jolted into a sitting position. All around him, everything was foreign. Those were not his curtains, that was not his walls and the bed he was currently bundled up in was _not_ his own.

He’d fallen asleep in the stranger’s bed. _Even worse_ , he’d apparently slept through the night in the stranger’s bed.

Feeling stress rise up to his throat, he swallowed, hard. He felt frozen in place, unsure of what his next move should be. He couldn’t just stay here forever, the stranger was bound to come back to his room at some point. But he also couldn’t very well risk going outside and crossing paths with the stranger — or worse, a roommate. 

His best bet, he decided, was to quietly get out of the room and bolt straight for the front door. If he could even remember where it was, that is…

Feeling resolute, he threw the covers off of him and lowered his socked feet to the ground. He was glad to discover that the bed didn’t creak when he got up, fastening his pace as he got to the bedroom’s door. He turned the knob ever so slowly, making a small crack to observe the field for potential run-ins. The corridor was completely empty and the only sound that could reach him was that of dishes clanking together somewhere far away. He pulled the door open wider and took a first step out. Nothing.

That gave him more confidence, as he hurried down the corridor. He arrived in a bigger room that seemed to serve both as a living room and a makeshift dining room, exhaling in relief. At the opposite end of the room, Even could see the dark wooden door, his saving grace standing tall like a mirage appearing to a man stranded in the Sahara. Too obnibulated by the prospect of finally being free, Even threw all caution to the wind and walked straight towards the exit. 

As he stepped in front of some sort of entrance marked by a white arch, his right foot landed on a loose floorboard, which lamented itself loudly. The background noise the dishes had made up until then came to an abrupt stop, just as Even himself stilled in surprise. 

“Oh! You’re awake!” A cheerful voice greeted him to his right.

Even winced, closing his eyes while mentally scolding himself for causing his own downfall. Even seriously considered just standing there with his eyes shut, hoping whoever the voice belonged to would simply… walk away, but as it was probably their apartment, that strategy seemed a bit far fetched.

Sighing in defeat, Even turned on his heels to face the stranger. The first thing he noticed was the bunny slippers the stranger was wearing over his feet. _Cute_ , he thought to himself. Then, he raised his gaze to the stranger’s face and- Oh.

Oh.

Even felt the wind being knocked out of his lungs all at once, the force of the shock so strong it almost made him stumble backwards. He looked beyond ethereal. 

From his perfectly tousled golden curls to the soft slope of his nose, all the way down to his jawline and his cupid bows shaped lips, he looked nothing short of a God. 

The man was straight out of Even’s wildest fantasies. All he could do was stare at him, mouth slightly agape and brows raised up to his hairline, as his brain tried to form a single coherent thought.

The stranger spoke again, his soft, sleepy voice filling Even’s insides with something warm and welcoming.

“Eh, I don’t know if you remember me, from last night…?” He asked, to which Even, thankfully, had the reflex to nod slowly. “Ah! Good! Well, hm, you seemed quite tired, so I didn’t want to wake you up.” The man’s smile grew sheepish, like he was admitting to more than what he’d said out loud. _Did you watch me sleep?_

Even cleared his throat, but no words came to his mind. He shook his head, trying to regain his composure. “Thank you,” He said, softly. The stranger nodded, smiling even brighter. “I should go… You probably have a lot of things to do, so…”

Even started turning back towards the door, craving nothing more than to mope miserably in his own bed, when the stranger interrupted him. 

“Wait!” He almost screamed, making Even’s head whip back around. “You can stay, if you want. I… eh, I made you breakfast?” His voice sounded unsure, but the pink that now coloured his cheeks and the shy smile he was trying to hide let Even know he was probably just embarrassed. Blushing looked so good on him that Even had to look away before he’d just run over to him and kiss him right then and there.

The truth was that no, Even didn’t really want to stay for breakfast. He was craving his own bed more than anything and he felt beyond embarrassed about the state the stranger had found him in the previous night. That being said, he was also reluctant to go. For some reason, the stranger’s presence seemed to smother Even’s racing mind, allowing him a few moments of peace. He’d missed peace and he wasn’t sure he was ready to let go of that feeling yet. Plus, the stranger was definitely pleasant to look at.

Even nodded again, slowly entering the room where the stranger was still standing, smiling up at him. From the look on the other’s face, it seemed as though Even had just told him he’d won the lottery or something. Even expected to be put off by the guy’s cheerfulness, but he really only found it cute. _Like pretty much everything about him_ , his mind reminded him.

Wiping his somewhat clammy hands on his pants, he walked towards the stranger, extending a hand towards him. The stranger seemed confused for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing, creasing his forehead adorably. Even was about to simply drop his hand - and potentially running away in shame - when the stranger raised his opposite hand, shaking Even’s softly. 

Even his hand was heavenly. It was soft, but strong at the same time, his grip firm without being rough. 

“Even’’ He said, figuring it was the bare minimum to introduce himself to the guy who’d talked him out of a panic attack, let him sleep in his bed AND made him breakfast. Besides, calling him ‘the stranger’ in his mind was getting old really fast.

The stranger smiled softly at him, repeating ‘Even’ under his breath, as if he was testing it out, figuring out how it rolled on his tongue. Even had never given much thought to his name, but coming out of the stranger’s mouth, it sounded like the prettiest name there could be. 

“I’m Isak, by the way.’’ The stranger, Isak, said. That made Even smile brighter than he had in… well… a while. It was such a sweet sounding name, for such a sweet looking guy.

In all honesty, the guy could probably make any name sound beyond beautiful. 

They sat next to each other at the table, Even eating the delicious food while Isak ran an uninterrupted commentary on how he used to suck at cooking. Even was barely paying attention to what he was shoving in his mouth, his gaze stuck on Isak, on the way his hands moved when he talked, on the slight quirk of his eyebrows when he got excited, on the way his mouth curved slightly more upwards on one side when he smiled. Everything about Isak was inviting Even in, trapping him, but Even didn’t feel stuck this time. On the contrary, he wanted to be trapped, he wanted to never leave this bubble of bliss they were in.

At some point, Isak interrupted himself, chuckling nervously. Raking a hand through his hair, - which, admittedly did things to Even - he sighed. 

“Faen, I’m sorry, I’m probably boring you to death right now.’’

Even just looked at him, a smile he hoped didn’t appear as infatuated as he felt on his lips. 

“Never.’’ 

That had the expected effect, making Isak blush a deep pink all over his face. He coughed slightly, ducking his head towards his plate to hide it. _Cute_.

Feeling a wave of confidence, Even figured he could take charge of the conversation.

“So, do you often save strangers from potential death in the middle of your parties or am I special?’’ Even asked, smirking towards Isak.

A laugh bubbled out of him, like Even’s question had taken him by surprise. He shook his head slightly, raising his eyes to meet Even’s.

“Just cute ones.’’

Even felt his eyebrows shoot up, surprised by how bold Isak was being. 

“Oh, wow, I’m beyond flattered! And do you make them breakfast as well? Quite the commitment’’ Even asked, hoping to one-up Isak again. Unsuccessfully.

Isak just looked at him for a bit, his gaze searching the answer to an unspoken question. 

“No. Just you.’’ He finally let out, his voice filled with emotions.

Even felt something bubble up in his chest, warming him up from head to toes. He put his fork down, pushing his empty plate forward, before turning his whole body towards Isak. Putting his right elbow on the table, he laid his head to rest on his hand, looking at Isak through his lashes. 

Isak, beautiful, wonderful Isak, who made him feel things he hadn’t felt in years within a few hours of meeting him. Isak, who helped him through a panic attack, lent him his bed and made him breakfast the next morning. Isak, with the soft smile and the softest heart. Isak, Isak, Isak.

“What?’’ Isak asked, laughing. “Why are you looking at me like that?’’

Even felt emboldened. He felt more alive than he’d probably ever felt. It was better than any drug, better than any manic episode. He felt conscious, of himself and of Isak. Of the world around them. He raised his left hand, slowly, giving Isak enough time to understand his plan and back away. He didn’t. 

When his index touched Isak’s cheek, it felt like a spark passed between them. When he cupped Isak’s jaw with his palm, a fire ignited inside of him. When Isak leaned in his hand, Even combusted. He could see how much Isak was affected too, his breath becoming heavier and his eyes swimming in whirls of emotions. 

“You’re so beautiful’’ Even breathed out, low and slow as to not break the moment. 

Isak gave him a lopsided smile, breathing out a ‘’You’re not so bad yourself’’, which made both of them chuckle lowly. The air had shifted between them, slowly becoming heavier with want and need. 

“Do you feel this too?’’ Isak asked, avoiding Even’s gaze as he spoke.

“Yes.’’ 

Isak hesitated for a while, looking anywhere but at Even. 

“Does it scare you too?’’

Even sighed fondly, caressing Isak’s face, which earned him what was possibly the cutest smile he’d ever witnessed. 

“Yes.’’ He answered, truthfully. Usually, Even wasn’t the biggest fan of honesty. His brain was a scary place and most people couldn’t handle his honesty, but there was something about Isak that compelled him to be truthful. 

Without even realizing it, he was letting Isak see a part of himself he usually kept hidden. And it scared him, of course it did, but a bigger part of him was curious, excited, thrilled even. _Who are you and what are you doing to me?_

They’d both inched closer and closer, until their hair brushed together and their faces were mere millimeters apart. They were breathing the other’s air, just basking in each other’s presence. 

Even could feel his heartbeat ringing in his ears, but he could also hear Isak’s, beating just as loudly and just as fast as his own. That made him feel a little braver, knowing that Isak’s body was reacting to him as much as his body was reacting to Isak.

Feeling empowered by his newfound confidence, Even leaned forward, aiming to get rid of any space left between them. Their lips brushed, barely there, but it was enough to send waves of heat through Even’s body, enough to make him desperately crave more. He closed his eyes, pushing towards Isak a little more, but as he expected to crash on soft lips, he found himself kissing the side of Isak’s cheek. 

Confused, Even opened his eyes, barely detaching himself from Isak enough to give him a questioning look.

‘’I can’t give you what you want’’, Isak sighed, closing his eyes in a wince, as if saying these words out loud hurt him. It hurt Even too. It wasn’t the first time someone had thought they knew what Even wanted more than he did, but something was telling him that Isak was more wary of his own brain than of Even’s.

‘’Oh yeah? And what do I want?’’ Even asked, trying to coax Isak into allowing him a kiss by getting even closer, trailing kisses on his cheek, his jaw, every surface he could reach. Isak leaned into it at first, his face twitching like he was about to give in. Even felt his heart flutter, raising his left hand to Isak’s neck. 

As soon as Even’s hand touched Isak’s skin, Isak sprung up, scraping his chair back in the motion and startling both Even and himself. 

‘’Too much’’ Isak answered, all traces of fondness and softness gone from his voice, his tone hard and definitive. 

Even felt his heart constrict painfully, but he didn’t argue. He merely got up slowly, raising his hands in surrender. 

It didn’t seem to do much to appease Isak, who was now pacing the kitchen anxiously. He looked like he was having a fight with himself, walking back and forth without ever looking Even’s way.

Even stood there, unsure if he should try to comfort Isak or if that would only add to his internal turmoil. He had been told in the past that he gave particularly good hugs, so maybe it was worth a try.

His mind made up, Even could barely take one step towards Isak before the boy was snapping his head towards him, his icy gaze freezing Even where he was. His eyes seemed glazed over, like he was lost deep in his thoughts. Even held his gaze, waiting for Isak to make a move or say something. 

The longer they looked at each other, the more Isak’s eyes became focused, his hardened gaze softening a bit. He sighed, brushing his hand through his hair in frustration.

‘’I think you should go’’ Isak said, his voice wavering a little at the end. His voice seemed unsure and Even was pretty much certain that that wasn’t what Isak truly wanted.

‘’You think or you want?’’ Even asked, trying to keep his voice steady and confident. 

Isak looked at him for a moment, as if he was considering his offer, eventually shaking his head slowly and averting his gaze.

‘It’s better if you leave’’ He finally settled with, effectively avoiding Even’s question.

Normally, Even might have pushed it, trying to get Isak to admit the truth, but he was really tired and he wasn’t against the idea of getting home. He simply nodded, walking towards the door and putting on his shoes. Next to the door, Even noticed a small stack of sticky notes and a barely sharpened pencil. Unable to resist the temptation, he grabbed the pencil and quickly scribbled down on the notes. 

He taped it to the inside of the door, opening it and stepping outside hastily. 

On the note, he’d written his phone number, accompanied with a small ‘Ring meg, Even’.

Now, he just had to wait.

\-------------------------------------------

Song: I Must Cry Out Loud - Mother Mother

As soon as he opened his front door, he regretted going home. He’d been craving a moment alone to just sleep his thoughts away, but instead he was greeted by all of the boys sitting out in the living room, playing some video game Even knew nothing about.

There was no point even attempting to sneak past them, so Even took his shoes off, yelling a ‘I’m back!’ their way. The effect was instantaneous. 

They immediately paused the game, practically throwing themselves over Even, each of them asking a different set of questions.

Even felt dizzy, uncomfortable under their scrutinizing attention, but he smiled and he hugged them back like he was supposed to.

Pretending, he’d always been good at that. Ever since he’d realized that most times, being his actual self was worrisome for others, he’d learned how to act the way he knew they wanted him to. It was draining, it was exhausting and Even felt like he’d lost the ability to distinguish the lies he told himself from his true feelings somewhere in the middle, but it was worth it. Anything to make people stop fussing over him for one fucking second. 

‘’Guys, chill, I’m fine!’’ Even said, trying to get them to stop talking over each other.

They all settled in the living room, sprawled over various couches, their eyes glued to Even, unblinking.

‘’Hm, yeah’’ Even started, coughing to cover his nerves up. ‘’So, basically, I stayed the night in some guy’s room?’’ His affirmation sounded more like a question, but it satisfied the boys nonetheless, who immediately started hollering.

‘’Oh shit! Bech Næsheim’s back in the game!’’ Elias yelled, sounding beyond enthusiastic. Even laughed, clapping his raised hand. 

Even knew they were going to jump to conclusions. In fact, he’d purposefully phrased his sentence that way. If Even was having panic attacks in strangers’ houses: Even was not fine. On the other hand, if Even was having a one-night stand: Even was better!

Besides, he hadn’t exactly lied, he’d just omitted some details. It was fine. _He_ was fine.

The rest of the day went well, the guys kept playing video games for a while and Even halfheartedly encouraged them from the sofa. Eventually though, his sloppy thumbs up and flat ‘hooray’ did get the message across and Mikael finally shut the xbox off. 

Throwing his head back against the couch, Mikael met Even’s gaze and quirked an eyebrow. 

‘’Even?’’ Mikael asked, humour in his voice.

Even smiled at his upside down face, putting on his most innocent air.

‘’Yes, Mikael?’’

Mikael’s smile grows into a proper grin as he answers, ‘’Do you want to watch a movie?’’

Even’s instant ‘YES!’ contrasted with the other boy’s frustrated groans.  
  
‘’Okay, but there is no way we’re letting Even choose the movie!’’ Elias declared, followed quickly by the others’ approbation.

Even brought a hand to his heart, mouth open in offense. ‘’What! Why?’’

They all turned to him, a knowing look on their faces. 

‘’Okay, what movie do you want to watch?’’ Elias asked, like he knew the answer already.

Even eyed him suspiciously. ‘’I don’t know… Moulin rouge?’’

Elias threw his hands up, looking at Mikael, as if to say ‘told you so!’. Mikael just shook his head, chuckling under his breath.

‘’Okay, fine, Elias can pick this time!’’ He finally decided, earning himself a bright smile from Elias.

Even crossed his arms, pushing himself further into the couch. ‘Whatever’ He grumbled, pouting to himself. He abandoned his act quickly when the movie began and he realized Elias had put Moulin rouge on. He spared him a glance and smile when he met his eyes. Elias winked back, before turning to the screen again. 

The movie was playing, but Even wasn’t really paying attention. He loved this movie, he really did, and he could watch it a thousand times over without getting bored of it. Tonight though, he found his brain filled with thoughts of nothing other than Isak. He’d barely met him and yet, it seemed like he had managed to anchor himself in every corner of Even’s mind. 

Every little detail of his face was carved into Even’s brain, every single word they’d exchanged was replaying in his head. He had to see him again, no matter what it took. He knew Isak had been scared - of what, he had no clue - but he was determined to win him over. Well, he had to wait for Isak to text him first to be able to do that, but he was confident he would. He knew what he felt, and he was fairly certain Isak had felt the same. 

The movie went by fast, or maybe Even had just been too distracted to notice the passage of time. Time had never been his friend anyway. Everyone slowly left the apartment, leaving Even and Mikael alone in the living room. 

Even was pretty sure Mikael would rather live on his own, but he’d somehow been appointed as Even's babysitter by the group, so here they were: roommates. Well, more like it was Mikael’s apartment and Even was squatting it until he could get a new job. The problem with bipolar was that not a lot of employers were willing to cope with the sudden weeks or months long absences. So, every time he had an episode, he lost his job. While Even had learned to master the art of job interviews, it was mostly annoying to constantly have to start from the ground. His friends joked that soon, he’d have gone through all the jobs in Oslo and, while they were only kidding, Even knew there was some truth behind it. 

So, he was beyond thankful that Mikael could absorb his months of missed rent, but he also felt bad. Leeching off of his friends was not a great feeling to say the least and he knew that Mikael was putting his life aside for him, holding back on meeting a girl, getting married, having kids, all because of his fucked in the head friend who can’t take care of himself. So, yeah, Even felt guilty. 

But he didn’t feel anywhere as bad as he did when Mikael’s words hit him.

‘’So, Even, you’re really over Sonja right?’’

It felt like a slap. Or, no, a slap probably wouldn’t have echoed all the way to his heart, grabbing it and tearing it right out of his chest. A slap probably wouldn’t have knocked the air right out of Even’s chest, making his lungs constrict painfully. And a slap definitely wouldn’t have made Even’s brain run into overdrive.

Even felt like crying. He didn’t.

Closing his fists, Even pressed his nails into his palms, hard. 

‘’Yeah, I’m definitely over her, Mikael. It’s been over a year.’’

Mikael didn’t seem convinced, eyeing him with suspicion. He chewed on his lips, thinking something over for an agonizingly long time.

‘’Okay… So, I guess I kind of have to tell you something…’’ Mikael finally said, his voice unsteady and his eyes avoiding Even’s.

Even pressed harder. 

‘’Yeah, sure, what’s up?’’ He said, controlling his voice. _Breathe in, breathe out._

Mikael sighed, letting his head fall backwards. He muttered a ‘fuck me’, before turning his head towards Even.

‘’Just so you know, I told the guys this was a bad idea.’’ 

Every nerve in Even’s body was alert and he felt like crawling out of his own skin. He pressed harder into his palms, but he barely felt the pain anymore. _Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out_. 

‘’Mikael, stop stalling. Just say it.’’ He knew his voice was harsh, but it was all Even could do to not fall apart right there. All of this delay was driving Even insane and he felt like he would explode any minute now.

Mikael coughed, shifting a little on the couch. ‘’Alright, sorry’’ He said, straightening his back. ‘’You know how we’re all going over to Sana’s friday to celebrate her engagement?’’

Even nodded. He’d actually forgotten it was this friday, but that detail didn’t feel important right now.

‘’Alright, well, I don’t know why, but Sonja somehow got invited? And she confirmed she’s coming.’’

_Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Brea_ -

‘’I just didn’t want you to find out at the party…’’ Mikael added, worried at Even’s lack of answer.

All he could do was nod, again. He moved his head up and down slowly, hoping he seemed normal enough, before getting up and walking straight to his room. If Mikael protested, he didn’t hear him, the buzzing in his ears enough to drown out anything other than his thoughts. 

He locked his door as a precaution and let his body fall back against it. 

He tried to take deep breaths, but he couldn’t get any air in. His lungs burned and he felt tears pricking his eyes, threatening to escape. 

He couldn’t face her. There was no way. He couldn’t, but he also couldn’t cancel. It would make Sana and Yousef sad and it would worry the boys and Sonja would know he wasn’t over her and he just really really had to go. But if he went, he’d have to see her and he couldn’t handle that and he’d start panicking just like right now and _fuck he can’t breathe_.

His vision started to blur, darkness invading his eyes and making his room appear even smaller. Putting his hand on his desk to hold himself up, he came to terms with his only option. Eyeing his desk drawer, he tried to resist a little longer, but his vision was shrinking by the second and he truly felt like he was going to fucking die.

With tears rolling down his cheeks, he gave in, practically throwing himself towards the drawer, opening it harshly and looking through it, frantic. He threw everything he found on the ground, carelessly, until he finally got his hand on what he’d been looking for. 

Bringing the blade to his arm, he sucked a breath in. 

I can’t do this.

I can’t see her.

I can’t not go.

I’ll have to see her.

I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t. Do this _. I. Can’t. Do. This_.

The pain didn’t even register with Even’s brain, but the relief that instantly washed through him certainly did. He let himself fall to the floor, his back to the desk, his head tipped back. He breathed hard, trying to get as much air as he could in his lungs, feeling his dizziness dissipate and his vision come back to him, little by little.

The blade fell to the floor in a satisfying little clink and Even closed his eyes. He’d managed to push his thoughts back far enough to be able to mostly ignore them and all he felt now was peace. He felt so relaxed. And exhausted.

With some difficulty, he creeped to his bed, throwing himself down over the covers, exhaling slowly. His heart was still beating like crazy, but he didn’t care. He felt warm, he felt soft and he felt so, so, heavy. Letting his body melt into the mattress, he let sleep take him.

That night, even dreams didn't come trouble his inner peace.

\-----------------------------------------

Song : Alone and Sublime - Mother Mother

Waking up usually feels like such a relief to Even, but this morning, he feels like shit. His arm is numb and his skull aches under a pounding headache. Opening his eyes seemed like a challenge in itself, his eyelids heavy and stubborn. He was vaguely aware of the knocking at his door, but he figured it would stop if he just ignored it. He was wrong.

‘’Even, for fuck’s sakes, if you don’t answer me I’m knocking down your fucking door’’

Okay, so Mikael was pissed, clearly. Even doubted he’d actually go through with his threat, but he also didn’t particularly enjoy making his friend mad, so he gathered the little bit of strength he had left and yelled back a ‘What?’.

He could hear how exasperated Mikael sounded, even through the door. ‘’Even, it’s like three pm and you haven’t left your room yet. Are you okay?’’

Even couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him. Was Mikael really asking if he was okay? Even couldn’t even remember the last time he hadn’t felt awful, let alone ‘okay’. Maybe back when he was diagnosed, when he’d had Sonja and his parents, when people still had faith he’d get this thing under control. When people still had faith in him. When _he_ still had faith in himself.

‘’I’m fine Mikael. I can chill without being down, okay? I’m just tired.’’ 

He tried to keep his voice steady and assured, so Mikael wouldn’t insist to be let in. He might be able to fool him through a door, but Mikael knew him too well not to recognize he was having a bad day if he saw him. 

‘’Alright. Holler if you need anything’’ Mikael said, hesitating for a bit behind the door before Even heard his footsteps retreating.

Sighing heavily, Even let his body sink even further in the bed. He didn’t feel the way he had yesterday, far from it actually. Instead of his thoughts being loud and swirling, refusing to leave him alone, he found his mind eerily quiet.

He felt empty, drained, like his own body wasn’t his to control. He had slept for… well over fourteen hours, yet his mind ached for more. 

He spent the day in and out of slumber. He could hear Mikael moving around the flat from times to times, but it felt more like a dream than reality. Even felt like he wasn’t exactly real, like his timeline had momentarily stopped to allow him a moment of repose, while the regular timeline, the one everyone else seemed to be on, kept going as usual. 

He didn’t mind those moments. He couldn’t exactly mind them anyway, since he was mostly lost somewhere to the mist, away from life and from his thoughts. He was in space, he was floating, free and light and surreal. Nothing mattered to him in that moment, he was so far up in the sky, so far from the real world that he couldn’t find his way back. It would have been scary, had Even really been conscious of this, how he could go from being a very real, very alive person to this shapeless, lifeless entity floating through time and space mindlessly. 

The longer Even spent in this state, the furthest he got from himself. His thoughts went first, then came his body, followed quickly by his friends and family. His past, his present and his future blurred together, his very essence long forgotten. Everything that made him himself would slowly slip out of his soul, until he either woke up, or disappeared for good. 

This time, it took him three days to wake up.

Turns out, Mikael hadn’t lied. When Even awoke, he found his door knocked out of its hinges. It made Even sad, it wasn’t his door’s fault. It also made him angry: he had locked it for a reason goddamnit. 

So, he got up. He went to piss, he took a shower, he ate. It was fine.

Mikael didn’t mention it and neither did he. It was fine.

Tomorrow, he’d go out, he told Mikael. He’d go and buy them croissants and coffee for breakfast, since Mikael had done it the other day. 

‘’Two months ago’’ Mikael said.

‘’Hm?’’ Two months ago? Even didn’t understand.

‘’That happened two months ago, Even.’’

Oh. Even nodded. Two months meant nothing to him; it obviously meant a lot to Mikeal. Mikeal who was clearly trying to hide the fact that he was tearing up. It broke Even’s heart.

He ate his toast slowly, in silence. He felt like crying. He didn’t.

\----------------------------------------------------

Song: I Dare You - The xx

When Even woke up on Thursday morning, he still felt like shit. But, he was able to get out of bed, so it was a level of shitty he could handle. 

True to his word, he decided to go grab a breakfast for Mikael and himself at the cute coffee shop next to their apartment. Putting his clothes on didn’t feel like such a burden anymore and he even took the time to lace his shoes instead of lazily tucking the ties between his feet and the shoes. 

Baby steps, he supposed. He didn’t bother to style his hair; he didn’t have the energy and, besides, it wasn’t like he was planning on meeting up with anyone. This was gonna be a straight to the coffee shop and then straight back home trip. 

Usually, it took him under ten minutes to get to the shop, his fast pace being facilitated by his long legs. This time, it took him almost fifteen, but at least he got there. There had been times where he’d had to go back home halfway through and that made him feel even worse, even if Mikeal swore ‘he didn’t even really want croissants’. 

Opening the door, he winced at the loud noise the bell above him made. He’d forgotten about that. The warm atmosphere inside the coffee shop did nothing to calm his nerves, making him feel a little like he was suffocating instead. He made his way to the barista, getting in line behind a few other people and praying it wouldn’t take long.

He felt antsy, moving from foot to foot, unable to keep still for even a second. He craned his neck, trying to see what the hell was taking so long. The man at the front of the line seemed to be in no hurry as he read orders off of his phone. _Probably another fucking delivery_ , Even thought bitterly. 

He seriously considered just leaving, but people were now in line behind him and it would look weird if he just left. Besides, he had made it all the way here, he might as well wait. It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be either. 

The line moved forward, but when the next client started asking for recommendations, Even felt like crying. He looked to the door, considering his options, before making his mind up. Fuck croissants, this was not worth it. 

He was about to start walking towards the exit, when a hand fell on his left shoulder. Startled, he turned to the hand, freezing in place when he realized who it was.

‘’Isak?’’ He let out, sounding far too gone for his liking. He was usually so smooth, but when it came to him, Even’s brain was nothing but mush. 

Isak smiled, dropping his hand from Even’s shoulder. Even couldn’t help but pout at that, making Isak smile a little brighter. Even felt like his heart was going to burst with joy.

‘’Hey, I saw you in line and recognized you. I hope you don’t think this is creepy or anything…’’ He asked, chuckling nervously. Even found it so incredibly endearing.

‘’A little’’ Even said, making Isak whip his head towards him with a worried look on his face. ‘’It’s okay though, I’ve always wanted a stalker.’’ Even smirked, proud of himself for making Isak lose his composure.

Isak tried to look mad, narrowing his eyes at Even, but the spark shining in them told Even an entirely different story. 

‘’Really funny, Even.’’ Isak said, which only made Even’s heart swell even more in his chest. Isak coughed a little, a tic he seemed to have when he felt nervous. ‘’I was wondering if you, well, do you… Do you want to go sit for a bit? If you’re not in a hurry.’’

Isak was adorable. He was especially adorable for believing for a single second that Even would ever tell him no. 

‘’Of course, Isak’’

Isak smiled, which made Even smile back at him and they just stayed there, smiling at each other, until it was Even turn to order and the barista let out a particularly irritated ‘Hello?’.

Even got a few croissants and a single coffee - Mikael’s would be cold by the time he’d get home anyway - before following Isak to his table towards the back of the shop. They sat face to face, silently sipping their coffee. It wasn’t awkward and, for once, Even didn’t feel like he had to fill the silence with some small talk. They just existed together and that was enough.

Still, after a couple of sips, Even couldn’t help himself.

‘’Why didn’t you text me?’’ 

As soon as he’d said it, Even regretted it. Isak looked like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide and movements faltering. He slowly put his cup back on the table and cleared his throat.

‘’I don’t know’’ Isak said, finally, looking directly into Even’s eyes, silently begging for him to believe his explanation.

Coming from anyone else, it might not have satisfied Even, but he could tell Isak was being honest. There was probably a reason, hidden somewhere, but Isak wasn’t ready to face it just yet. Even could wait, he was a patient man after all. 

‘’Ok.’’

Even was ready to go back to their peaceful silence, but this time, Isak interrupted it.

‘’I don’t know what it is, but I can’t stop thinking about you’’ Isak started, hiding his visibly shaking hands under the table. ‘’All day, all night, I can’t get rid of you.’’

Even wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but he knew he had to be careful here. He couldn’t afford to scare off Isak.

‘’Is that a good or a bad thing?’’ Even settled for, trying to get Isak to meet his gaze.

Isak did, his eyes full of so many different feelings that it took Even’s breath away.

‘’That’s what I’m trying to figure out right now.’’

Even nodded, contemplating his answer. Truthfully, Even wanted to tell him to risk it all, that something that made him feel so alive couldn’t be bad, but he knew that was too much. 

‘’Can you show me your hand?’’ He asked, voice low and private. Isak quirked an eyebrow, confused, but still put one of his hands over the table, stretched towards Even.

Keeping his gaze locked with Isak’s, he inched his own hand towards Isak’s palm. Slowly, he pressed his fingers to the palm, which made Isak’s breath hitch. Even waited until he could see Isak breathe normally again, before he began to stroke his hand carefully, drawing random patterns over his skin.

Isak’s weariness slowly left his face, leaving a curious look as he tore his eyes away from Even’s to stare at their hands. Retreating his hand, Even didn’t miss the slight look of disappointment that flashed in Isak’s eyes. 

‘’Did that feel good?’’

Isak’s face hardened a little, but he still answered truthfully. ‘’Yeah’’

Even nodded, grabbing his croissants and his half-finished coffee and getting up from the chair. Under Isak’s questioning gaze, he added :

‘’You’ve got your answer’’

As he left the coffee shop, he could feel Isak looking at him and it filled his entire body with happiness.

As the wind hit his face outside, Even realized he hadn’t felt this alive in as long as he could remember. 

When he was with Isak, he felt like he could finally breathe. Like he was being pulled from the water he’d been drowning in for so long, his head breaching the surface and his lungs finally tasting the air, filling his body with so much life.

Isak gave him oxygen, and he was going to have him if it was the last thing he did. 

**Author's Note:**

> Annoyingly deep author's notes incoming :
> 
> I thought it would be interesting to play with the notion of time. That's a theme that will come back a lot and have meaning to Isak too. Even doesn't relate to 'time', it's not what he uses to measure the progression of events. I'd be interested in hearing what you guys think about that. I figured it could be a fun thing to explore and to relate to him being in a bad place mentally.
> 
> Isak... Isak is a complicated one. He hides a lot of things, but he feels this pull towards Even that he can't resist. At least face to face. Don't worry, he'll be more present next chapter, this isn't the last of him (obviously lmao).
> 
> Other than that... What do we think of the boy squad? And Mikael? And the infamous Sonja... Wonder what happened there...


End file.
